


A fucking terrible Christmas that wasn’t actually that bad (cause it actually turned into a gay hallmark movie)

by Alexisgeeway



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst and Feels, Artist Gerard Way, Asshole Frank Iero, Attempt at Humor, Basement Gerard Way, Boys Kissing, Christmas Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Frank Iero Is A Little Shit, Frank is a hopless romantic, I Just Really Love Pete Wentz, I have too many tags I apologise, Ice Skating, Kellic may show up and I am not ashamed to say that I adore that ship, M/M, Mikey Way/ Pete Wentz - Freeform, Mild Smut, My First Fanfic, Pete Wentz Needs a Hug, Protective Pete Wentz, Punk Frank Iero, Revenge Era Frank Iero, Snow, Teen Gerard Way, song: teenage dirtbag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexisgeeway/pseuds/Alexisgeeway
Summary: Yet another fan fiction of Gerard Way and Frank Iero, except add ✨ Christmas 🎄 and ❄️ snow resort ⛄️.Frank Iero, whom some would like to call a 'angsty teenager' unfortunately has to spend his precious Christmas holidays, in a resort with his mum and her boyfriend Chris.Beware!! This is my first fanfic toon and will most likely be trash so prepare your poor eyes.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Comments: 36
Kudos: 19





	1. A uneventful start to an uneventful holiday

Its Christmas!

…..

Fuck, its Christmas.

The awful time of the year where society casually reminds me, and of course other loners, that to be alone on Christmas is to be like scrooge in the beginning of a Christmas carol. It fucking sucks. So I’m sorry hallmark Christmas movies, but I don’t think that I’ll be finding ‘the love of my life’ this year. Especially because the only exciting thing I’ve got going for me is my shit mum’s shit new boyfriend Chris and my ten remaining misfits’ CDs. Oh, and I forgot to mention! My delightful mother whom I care most dearly for not only decided to throw away twenty of my smashing pumpkins CDs, but also that we are going to spend the whole Christmas break in a resort. And for normal kids you might think that this would be great fun! Relaxing holiday at some far away beach right? Well not fucking me cause I know for a fact that we are absolutely to broke for that shit.

I have no words. My mum truly hates me.

I remember her smiling so wide, stained teeth beaming through peeled back lips thinking that this was the best idea yet! Chris clasping his hands together, with a loud clap, letting us all know with that one gesture just how much fun he thinks this will be. I also remember me climbing out of my window later that night to stress smoke a packet of cigs on the roof. Yeah. So you could tell how excited I was.

That was around twoish weeks ago. Now I’m here, being dragged along in ma’s car to some ‘fancy’ hotel, as she likes to call it. I highly doubt it.

Of course, I have stayed in a hotel/resort before, every teenager in 2018 has, so I pretty much know what to expect. Clusters of entitled adults and their screaming children standing in line for a key, sharp screams of wheels being turned to close to a wall, and of course my favourite. The consistent nagging of my ma. Just general shit my socially anxious ass will not enjoy.

“Frankie why don’t you make some friends? Might do ya some good ya know? You’ve always seen such a lonesome boy…”

Let me get this straight. I, firstly am not. Secondly, I have plenty of friends in New Jersey!! I have my friend Ray, my friend Pete, his friend Patrick, um…yeah! Three friends are good enough to last a long time! I don’t need any new friends...

My mum then brings up how overwhelming single I am. 

“Frankie…you could always meet a boy?” She teases with a smirk.

‘God my mums a twat’ I think as I slam my head into the front seat.

“So, Frankie- “Chris calls over the radio. Karma Police is playing. I might dislike Chris with his buzz cut hair and bulging eyes, but he does have a good taste in music.

“Frank” I interject.

“Frank”, he corrects, “Have you looked online at the resort? How is it?”

I searched up the resort, Snow Prowl - a welcoming, friendly resort for families, couples and desperate singles - a week ago. Had to check where I was spending my precious time at. There are around 20 cabins, varying in sizes surrounding a large plot of snow that leads to a wooden building called ‘the main building’. Original isn’t it. Online it looks quite pleasant. All warm and cosy, especially the red leather couches in the entrance hall. It’s like I can feel the fireplace warming up my body right now. 

I shake my head. Stop it Frank, you’re supposed to hate this place.

“Nah. Wasn’t bothered” I lie, a small self-satisfied smirk spreading across my cheeks. Glad to quickly shut down what would have otherwise been a painfully boring conversation.

The rest of the drive goes rather quickly. My mum only bothers me with a few questions, one of which is if I’m excited to be going into year twelve next year, to which I respond with a simple, resounding, no. She stops talking to me after that. Just turns up the radio and sighs.

I don’t try to be a devil child. Don’t get me wrong I truly do love my ma’. After my drunk of a dad left her when I was 10, my ma had to do mostly everything by herself. Pay the bills, drive me to school, work two shifts, sometimes three a day just to get us through. Even though that was seven years ago, she still works so hard to provide me with everything she can. So, no. I’m not an ‘angsty son hating mum’ teenager, I just…well to be honest…I’m not sure why I’m such an ass. Perhaps it’s to uphold my reputation of a ‘punk’. Yeah, I think, that’s it. I’m not known as that weird classmate that could probably kill you because I’m nice.


	2. to quote cliff steele, "fuck!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank passes two nerds, meets Santa clause and falls in his ass.
> 
> We love the holidays.

“Frankie we’re here!”

“What, ma?” I shout lazily and pull out my earphones. My phone says its quarter to three. I must’ve been asleep for at least two hours. God, I wish I slept for longer. The resort was fancy looking, well, mostly fancy looking since in the centre of the car park, stood a cartoonish statue of a polar bear and a penguin in snowboarding gear. It was odd but I guess it gave the place some semblance of personality. Resting my hand on the car door proved to be a bad idea when I felt my finger tips quickly freeze, "Shit," well, great first start to this place, Frank. My ears perked up at the sound of two voices, both male and both seem to be invested in some geeky conversation about some comic series I haven't heard of.

"Listen Mikey, I told you this. You ignore the Bryne run, that's awful. The Morrison and Pollack run are the gold standard for Doom Patrol, sure the silver age stuff is enjoyable but Morrison and Pollack improved so much and-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," The other voice replied. "Listen Gee, there's a tv show, I can just watch that,"

"Yeah that's good but," The first I heard seemed to stop for a moment. "The comics are just as good, seriously Doom Patrol is the best comic series and I stand by that, when-"

"When you get hired by DC, you'll write for Doom Patrol, yada yada yada. I've heard it a billion times, dude,"

From what I could make out, the Doom Patrol shill looked annoyed. His black hair seemed to free itself from behind his ear as the wind got stronger. Oh shit, I rushed up the stairs realising my investment in two random guys' conversation led to my lovely mother and her boyfriend to abandon me near that stupid statue, they left the guardians of the carpark in charge of me. The word 'shit' began to repeat in my head as I ran. Why does running make the wind feel colder? That's such bullshit. Words can not describe how much a relief the warm air from the heater was, I felt like I would melt. I could make out the vague shape of the two who abandoned me to freeze to death near the counter, talking to some bubbly and overly enthusiastic girl with pale orange hair tied into short, stubby pigtails.

"Well what do we have here?" I say to myself. "Ah that’s right, exactly as I saw on the websites, a Disneyland shithole". 

Enclosing my already fixed mindset on Christmas, stood a comically large tree in the centre of the lobby. Hundreds of little lights danced around the green plastic, happily blinding me whenever I stare at them for too long. Fuck, it’s like they WANTED me to hate the holidays. I roll my eyes as I notice yet another over the top decoration. A giddy, extremely chubby Santa statue sitting on one of the three leather couches. I start to approach the statue, fondling with the small eyeliner in my hoodie pocket hoping to deface this shit. What?! I’m bored as fuck and I have no idea where the fuck mum and what's- his-face is, so why not do something to entertain myself? It’s not a crime.

The closer I come to the statue the more life like it seems. "What the fuck-" I mumble out of the side of my lips, silently wishing for a cigarette to be shoved in my pierced mouth. I lean into the statue from behind absorbing the intricate details the creators put into this statue. They really went all out this Christmas. Reaching my hands over to the plum coat of 'Santa', so I could feel the small drawn on wrinkles, I get a fright when the statue turns its head to me and says, "Hiya kid!". 

"HOLY SHIT!" I scream back at the Walmart Five Nights of Santa’s statue. This isn't a statue!! what the fuck....

"Frank Iero! Come here NOW!" I hear a familiar sound interrupting my very concerning thoughts. 

"Coming, ma!" I dash out the front door as quickly as I can, not wanting some animated troll following and calculating how long it'll take to kill me. Um yeah, I might need to see a psychologist.... could be some unresolved trauma right there. Fuck you Chucky Cheese and your stupid creepy mechanical mouse face! The last thing I need on my mind while finding my temporary home is Chucky fucking Cheese.

I heard the crushing of fluffy snow under my red converse shoes, which I specifically chose to match my hair because I'm actually quite a fashionable man you see. I felt my knees begin to ache and the cold wind just made it worse. Why was the lodge so fucking far? I'm not cut out for physical activity, I did jack shit during PE last year. I don’t think I even attended once! My friends and I would just hide in the music room and mess around with the instruments, perhaps I should’ve at least participated once...maybe I wouldn't currently be TRIPPING IN THE FUCKING SNOW AND FALLING ON MY ASS!

Fuck, I hate Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys for posting so late. I've been sparkles disassociating sparkles. hope you guys have a very merry Christmas!! and thank you for reading this piece of shit


	3. The Handsome siren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS! sorry for the late upload but hopefully this long chapter makes up for it. well its long for me....I have no fucking idea how y'all writers write 12,000 words PER chapter! bitch I'm struggling to even write a sentence!!  
> How was y'all New Years!!?!?? 
> 
> Love you guys and thank you for reading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank Iero explores the resort and runs into a a beautiful boy and his..boyfriend??

The cabin felt stale. It's a weird way to put it, but it did. The air seemed fake like it came from that air bottle factory in the Lorax. The walls were a dull grey with stock images of animals from the arctic or some shit. It didn't feel 'homely' if you know what I mean. It was a decent size, an open opaline wooden building with a traditional brick fireplace laid out in the centre of the living room. Despite the disjointedness of our cabin, the fireplace at least made up for it. Fireplaces, especially old brick ones, always made me think of a small bookshop that is overstuffed with hundreds of books. They remind me of being kept safe on stormy nights by the cover of my bed. Fireplaces always make me feel so..alone. But in a good way.

Looking around more I start to relax into the wooden cabin. Only a little bit! Don't get me wrong, the dead eyes of the stuffed moose head and other weird crap in this god forsaken house still gives me the creeps. I just...well...I’m fucking tired okay?! My mind ain't working....

The couches look stern but well worn. As though they have grudgingly put up with each of the guests that have come by, only to have been weathered by the memories of happy holidayers. Odd decorations are scattered throughout the cabin, most likely in an attempt to distract guests from the garish red curtains that hang by the windows. There are far too many windows I observe. I can almost picture myself sitting on the resin ledge gazing outside of the window, etching the snowfall as it lands gracefully in the hair of a handsome stranger…

Well shit. Maybe I am too lonely for my own good. My Mum might have been right when she said that I should get out more often. Meet some people. Get a boyfriend. Ugh. That sounds like it requires far too much social interaction.

“Frank?” I hear my mother call out, “Chris and I are going out exploring. You can come if you'd like?”

Fascinated by yet another framed stock image hanging on my bedroom wall I reply lazily, “nah thanks Ma’. I'll just...i’ll just do something else”.

“Okay honey, we’ll be back by 9!” my mum giggles into what I ASSUME is Chris’s chest. Gross. I have no idea what they're planning on seeing or doing tonight but I'm happy I am never EVER going to find out. Unless of course my mother rushes to the hospital in 9 months time..

Fuck. Yup I need to get out.

Out of my rugged suitcase on the floor I pull out my favourite pair of gloves; white skeleton bones protrude from the black fabric. Yes they are fingerless but who needs warmth when you've got fashion. (imagine finger guns)

Okay Frank, you've got this. Let's go out and ‘explore’ this resort of Christian, worship. I mean seriously? There are so many Christmas decorations I could puke.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Snow looks awfully a lot like marshmallows. With it’s soft squishy-ness and white colouring, it would be hard NOT to mistake them as the ooey-gooey campfire snack. Well except when you find ‘yellow snow’. No yellow snow, no no noo, that is the disgusting plastic-tasting sliver of cheese your Mum buys you from the supermarket because it's cheaper. But don't you worry, it still tastes the same, just a bit more...saltiness. — what on earth is this? How did you jump from snow to cheese?

Anyways my point is, is that right now im currently standing on yellow highlighted snow and am fucking annoyed as it has only been 5 minutes of walking!! No wonder those mobility scooters were invented. Walking’s a piece of shit. All you get is a sweat and a load of piss. Literally.

Despite the obvious unfortunate circumstances I'm not having a terrible time wandering around the resort. I've peered into the windows of neighbouring cabins, just to check if they were as hideous as mine, and I'm glad to report that they are exactly the same. I have also successfully avoided the extreme life like Santa I saw earlier today. He was looking out the main building window, STARING at me willing me to come inside. Not today wacky fucker. So as you can assume, I ran pretty fast which now leads me to the drum roll please..

The unnecessary, ghost town of an ice skating rink.

Now to be fair it is around 7pm so most of the guests would be having the delicious pork and fluffy mashed potato from the resort buffet in the dining hall. (Please note my sarcasm.)

So I understand the lack of giddy families skating, that's why it makes me even more so intrigued when I see a boy approaching the ice.  
\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It's hard to tell what he looks like but just from the distance I know he is beautiful. His dark raven hair perfectly blends into the silent, dark night (haha get it? Silent night? This festive spirit must be getting to me) and yet the delicate snowflakes laying in his hair draw my complete attention. The boy radiates elegance, with his silent feet barely making a footprint in the ground, leaving only slight indents that will no doubt be covered by fresh snow in a matter of minutes.

I move closer. Not because I want to but because I have to. It's as though this boy is a bright light and I am a moth compelled by its sheer beauty. I don’t know why i'm drawn to him but god am I thankful to have gone on this trip. (don’t you dare tell my mum that!).

This siren, this enchanting boy, places his grey and black scarf on a nearby bench and sits down to put his skates on.. He does everything so carefully, so meticulously, as though he is a trained artist. God how I would kill to see the world in his eyes. He must see everything with such beautiful, so much potential.

Nothing like me.

He is a fireplace of warmth and comfort and I, a lonely traveller aching to be touched by anything more affectionate than my backpack.

I am already hopelessly lost to him.

A chubby snowman catches my attention as I yearn to lean closer to the stranger. Perhaps I can sit behind the snowman and just…observe him for one moment longer, before I pull my head out of my ass and bring with it enough guts to talk to him.

The sound of a pair of skates hitting the ice conceals the ridiculously loud crunch of my boots in the snow as I slip behind the snowman. The boy is finally on the ice. Sure he stumbles once- twice- oh no, THREE times but eh, who doesn't. I'm also, at last, in perfect position to see how his shoulder length hair twirls in the wind whilst he spins. He smiles and god does that destroy me.   
But before I can become a creep even more I hear running across me and I force my head back behind the snowman's body.

“GEE! GERARD!” A blond boy shouts between gasps. The poorly animated stick figure of a boy almost fucking trips because he is running so fucking fast. Jesus christ what is his deal!? Why can’t I just stalk beautiful men in peace and not have some fucking dork with glasses come up behind me and fucking steal him?!

A scream from the boy finally gets the pale vampire’s attention. “Gerard fucking Way come here right fucking now before I tell Ma that you plan to dye your hair white like Jack Frost!”

That seems to get the vamp’s attention, now known as Gerard which I am very happy to discover, as he rushes back off the ice and turns towards his…friend? His brother? His…boyfriend!!?!?!? He better not be his fucking boyfriend I swear to-

“Don’t you fucking DARE lil bro!” Gerard whispers back harshly. “Ma’s already off her tits because of my previous, ahem, haircut''

“Ahh yes,” the blond boy replies, “the masterpiece, the fantastic, the amazing catastrophe of 2017; teal roots.”

I automatically despise the blond boy as he smirks evilishy as my to-be boyfriend turns red in…I would say anger but his delicate blush that appears in his cheek reveals that it’s more from embarrassment. Still, either way I hate now that dude. Well…Frank, at least you know that the blonde boy is the brother of Mr beautiful and NOT his boyfriend. 1 point to me I guess.

“Mikey fuckin Way. That was one time. I was trying to achieve BLUE hair but my hand fucking slipped and I spilt the bottle everywhere.” Gerard grumbles crossing his arms. He turns his head to the right leaving the light blush behind and turns back to Mikey. He smirks, “It would’ve been fucking hot Mikes”

And now suddenly I’m the one who's blushing.

Mikey, an odd name to be honest, rolls his eyes and pulls out a black phone out of a familiar looking hoodie. Clandestine Industries. Hm..that sounds identical to a brand my friend owns. I shrug. Must be a popular name.

“Anyways, look at this”

He shows something to Gerard on his phone that I painfully can't see. I reckon it’s a new dungeon and dragons add on packs or some shit. That would probably get this Mikey dude excited.

“And?” Gerard replies, quoting molchany. “Mikey what does this have to do with me? I was having a lot of fun ice skating you know” Nodding my head aggressively I suddenly have to shut my mouth with my hands before I shout out a sentence I would have regretted. If Mikey is to be my brother-in-law , I have to treat him with respect.

“Gerrardddd. Come on dude how the fuck aren’t you seeing this!? This tanned, tattooed, gorgeous boy has fucking REQUESTED ME on instragam!!! Plus I know for a FACT he isn’t a pedo because we have a mutual friend!!!” Mikey grins cheerfully at Gerard obviously hoping to get some encouragement.

“Right okay lemme think for a second” The raven boy replies. He pauses for a second and pinches his nose. “So you're telling me that you interrupted me because of a boy.”

Gerard yanks off his skates befre Mikey replies and pulls on his black converse. Gerard’s rest finally gives me a chance to look around and suddenly a slow sprinkle of goosebumps crawls its way across my skin. Why are there no lights around? I can't smell anymore pork, it musnt be that late right? I shake my head, It surely is only 8pm I think. I wouldn’t have been out here for less than an hour and even if I were, I would've noticed how long i've been sitting in the snow for. My ass would be fucking fozen off if ive been sitting on my ass for more than an hour. I smile to myself. I know the time! Pssh Frank you're quite silly sometimes, always getting yourself in a kerfuffle. You're fine!

Although I come to think of it, I can't really feel any part of my body.

Shit. 

The Charlie Brown character and the gorgeous vampire (hush your mouth. He is beautiful. I am not dramatic) returns back to their conversation.

“Yes Gee. That is exactly why I interrupted ur shit skating. Now come on,” Mikey annoyingly speaks as he pulls on Gerards maroon jumper, “Its fucking cold out here and I need your help!”

The two boys walk off into the night, the shorter one still managing to capture my eye despite the darkness. I sigh and smile to myself.

“Mr snowman wasn’t that boy wonderful?” I say dreamily to a lump of cold rain.

Around 10 minutes after I calm myself from a daze, I stand up and walk towards the ice rink. I start to re-imagine the handsome boy ice skating when an object catches my eye.


	4. Gee is a bit of a sad lad but hey, flower crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for chapter - self harm/self deprecating thoughts
> 
> This is Gerard's POV from ending of last chapter where Mikey is dragging him back to their cabin. 
> 
> Gee reflects back to 2014 and becomes sad :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy MWHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHA

Gerards POV:

I could feel the collar of my jacket rub against my neck in ways I knew would leave a red, glowing mark later. Mikey pulled me along like a dog on a leash, he always does this. Mikey lacks this thing called consideration of others that results in him doing shit like this. Could I free myself? Yes, but that would only result in him dragging me by my leg like he’s the gravedigger and I’m the corpse. He's been yanking me through the snow for a solid 10 minutes, heaving and wheezing constantly, neglecting to give me even a second to breathe myself. I was at peace on the ice though. When I was skating it was so-, so-, I can't even explain how I felt. I felt so tiny yet safe. So powerful, but silent with the knowledge that nothing could touch me here. I can still feel myself twirling on the opalescent ice, almost oblivious to the world entirely, except for the distant snowman I felt curiously eyeing me. I'll have to go back. I think to myself, no one should have to leave a place where they felt so loved. That would be like professing your love to someone you just met, utter nonsense. 

“Mikey?” I ask in as calm of a tone I can. I’m slightly annoyed, actually scratch that, I’m incredibly annoyed considering the fact that Mikey was forcing me to help with his ‘boy problems’. It might have helped slightly if I actually knew anything about the so-called Romeo.

“Mikey, dude you gotta tell me how the fuck you met this..?? What the fuck is his name?” I question reminded yet again of how little information Mikes gave to me.

“Well Gee,” he stops running and turns to face me, blotches of pink spilling across his face like a ski mask, “You remember Ray right?”

Of course I fucking remember Ray, how on earth could you forget someone with such god-like hair? I nod to Mikey as memories of the sunshine man flop back into my brain. Around a couple of years ago, when I was in highschool, Mikey and I attended some posh ass music camp in summer. It was around the same time my Mum left us, or more when we left Mum, so my Dad thought it would be a good idea to enroll us, me for singing and Mikey for bass. My Dad was surprisingly correct as the ridiculously expensive week of music turned out to be a glorious time of a), meeting Ray who would end up to be Mikey and I’s closest friend, and b), discovering my utter distaste for polaroid pictures. (Mikey was obsessed with tumblr, as all teenagers in 2014 were, and had taken it upon himself to take as many tacky pictures as possible of literally any object that caught his eye. Thus, pictures of my HORRIBLE violet hair and flower crown phase were spread across the internet . Hush. Do not ask. I was an odd 18 yr old) 

FLASHBACK TO 2014

My Dad decided to help Mikey and I recover from our ‘depressive state’, which in my defence is quite understandable considering the circumstances Father, that he would enroll us into this too-good-goody-two-shoes music camp. To give you a run down, by the end of exactly 5 days, a variety of bands from all genres such as jazz, r n b, rock etc will perform at a large concert in the town square. Now I have no idea what group I’ll be selected for but I pray to god that I’m in rock or at least jazz because for fucks sake I am not doing classical music. Considering my shitty guitar skills, if I’m put into classical orchestra, I’ll have to sing opera.. Yup singing in dead languages is definitely not my forte nor will it ever be. I’d rather sell all my Grant Morrison Run of Doom Patrol then sing Nessun Dorma in front of 600 people. Well actually.. no that's a bit of stretch. I could never sell the love of my life but you get what I mean. 

As my younger brother yanks his bass guitar out of the boot I suddenly notice how much I stand out. With my fading lavender hair, red flower crown and my paint stained yellow overalls I come to realise that perhaps I'm a bit too.. overdressed? I look to Mikey for support, but the way this somehow-taller-than-me 14 year old boy is dressed gives me all the reassurance I need.

“Come on Gee!” Mikey excitedly shouts to me before speed walking, quite ridiculously, to the entrance of the brick building.

I start to question why I decided to join Mikey on the trip my Father is convinced will save us from ourselves, but thankfully my melancholy thoughts press pause when I see a boy about my age lurking behind one boy with fantastic green hair and two others. The boy immediately catches my eye with his beautiful mane of curls that erupt like a water fountain from his messy bun. He slouches, obviously in a different world as he listens to music through his chunky headphones. Along with his worn out green jacket, his black boots seem to be tattered, as though they experienced too much of life, even before this boy had acquired them. The most important thing though, as I came to realise, was the yellow guitar case that was slung across his back. See, people often forget how lovely the colour yellow is. And how a single person can spin this remaniant of sun, giving light to those that are lost. To me, this boy, despite not knowing him, is the personification of yellow. His slight smirk and caring brown eyes, I notice when he looks up at passing birds, hold glimmers of everything soft and warm.

He turns into a large music building and all of a sudden I start to not feel so alone.

FLASHBACK DONE 

“Of course I do Mikey. He’s my best friend, well, he was when I used to talk to him that is.” I reply slowly, picking at the skin around my nails.

I always have this habit of ditching everyone I love. Romantic or Platonic, it doesn't matter, I'll distance myself from both. I like to blame my Mother leaving for the reason I have the trust issues. For the constant pressure to leave those that get to close before they leave me. It’s her fault, it is.. though, there is still a never ending whisper in the back of my mind that keeps me up most nights. It mumbles that I am the reason my Mother turned to alcohol and drugs. That I, an awkward teenager barely old enough to drive, was somehow the creator of a plague of despair, that not only effected me, but my Mum too.

“Gee?”

“Gerard??”

“GERARD!!”

Mikeys voice startles me out of my trance and I return back to reality, to the forgettable present.

“Jesus Gee, I called your name like three fucking times. Are you deaf or something?-”

“I know. Im sorry.” A small mumble slips out of my throat.

My brother rolls his eyes and continues on his ranting journey to boyfriend land. He reaches for my hand and I wince.

My fingers, already chapped from drawing constantly, now bleed the contents of what appears to be a flooded wine cellar. I clutch them to my chest. Rudolph red, trails almost angrily down my fingers, filling the cracks of my palms and pooling almost lazily at the centre-most point.

I’ve got to stop doing this shit, I say in my mind. What shit? Fuck. It’s back again. Huh? I defend myself from the devil in my mind. You mean the self-harm right? The blood? The ripping, tearing, destroying of skin? Please Gerard, children as young as 12 slice their wrists daily as a ‘trend’ for instagram. They're not depressed. They don't want to die and yet they are still doing a better job than you. Shut up! I shout inside. You're not hurt enough Gerard. You're not cutting yourself enough to cause a scene. You're not depressed, you're just bored. You're not-

“Gee?” Mikey sighs as he notices my red fingers. He curls them into his own, keeping a protective grip. I'm supposed to be the older brother, not Mikey. I'm supposed to be protecting him, not the other way around. I'm a failure. Mum’s right, I can’t fucking do anything right. Mikey's coffee eyes make way up to my teary ones. I look away shamefully. Grow up Gerard your 21 not fucking 13. You don't have a reason to be crying. You're supposed to be better.

“Gee come on. I want you to help with what imma say to Pete. It'll take your mind off things Gee.”


	5. Wentz.in-my_pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Pete fucking Wentz aka sexy bastard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so extremely sorry for keeping you guys waiting. love you guys and thank you for supporting me
> 
> Also because I'm trash I'm going to make a Spotify playlist for this fanfic. Ill link it next chapter if any of you guys would like to listen to it. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day or night whenever you're reading this. 
> 
> FYI if its 3 am and u have school tomorrow and ur reading this chapter....GO TO BED

I should have never let Mikey drag me into this. Does he think I can help him? With romance? He’d do better if a computer volunteered. Well...I do consider myself as a form of a robotic machine with no soul, so I guess I qualify. Mikey’s words were just going through one ear and out the other. Honestly, his words were all kind of blending together at this point. This Pete guy seems interesting though. Although I wouldn’t really know, considering my complete lack of experience in the romance department. To act like I was properly listening, I asked Mikey a simple question. Something about his last name or some shit like that.

“Oh it’s Wentz,” Mikey replied, slowly beginning to fuse to his bed.

“Wentz, Pete Wentz. Oh, shit! Ray knows him! Well, I kinda know him, Ray knows him better because they’ve been to the same shows,” I say, the memory of Ray’s nasally voice reverberating in my head. “I remember him saying that he met this short dude who had tattoos, brown hair and played the guitar. Does that sound like your guy?” I ask.

Mikey rolls his eyes trying to distract me from his burning cheeks, “He’s not my guy. Well not yet at least. And yeah, here I’ll show you a picture.”

It's odd, I think, to see your baby brother ace the troubling confusion of crushes. And 1000 times better than you at that. 

Mikey eventually clicks onto his boy's account and rambles on about just how stunning and gorgeous and adorable and lovable and hot and-'  
anyways you get the picture.

“Here, look. Isn’t he just so fucking fit!!???” Mikey screeches yet again, allowing my mind to play flashbacks to The In-betweeners episodes. 'Fit' who the fuck gave British people rights to call hot people fit? No seriously someone please tell me because I am so incredibly confused.

Despite his horrific account name, Wentz.in-my_pants, which I do give points for creativity too, Mikey isn't wrong. This Pete dude is actually quite stunning, his charismatic, yet slightly menacing smile caught my eye first, as well as his terrible yet admirable dyed red and black hair. Pete is also unbelievably short, I come to notice as I scroll through more and more photos of him and his friends. He’s obviously a socialite based on videos of drinking games at parties and photos of him shouting in a microphone at a climate change protest. I have no fucking idea how Mikey thinks he will be able to converse with him let alone keep Pete still enough to have a decent conversation but hey, Mikey’s bony ass hip bones do have their fans. Plus Mikey is strangely charming despite his lack of showing emotions. 

Mikey continues to scroll through Pete's feed exposing more of his crazy nights, one which includes a pink coloured pool and many many bubbles. I kinda daze off a bit, to be honest. not that I'm not interested in learning about Mikey's new boy toy, it's just, well I guess I'm just feeling lonely. like I'm missing out on something. prepare to judge my whole mental health and diagnosis me with fucking hypocrisy but yes, I dont want to be lonely, in that way, but in no way am I going to ever willingly fall for someone. sure I find people attractive and think about sex and shit but..well like I told you last time, loves involves too much misery for it to be worthwhile. maybe ill just get a dog. or a cat. Unconditional love from an animal who can't understand English and adores you just for feeding them and petting them is all I need. No use in getting into all the complexity of trying to understand your lover's mind if all they're going to do in the end is leave you anyway.

My gaze eventually returns to Mikey's screen, browsing over a hundred photos not taking in much detail until a photo slithers into my eye. Or really, a certain person. 

I quickly rip Mikey's phone out of his hands and zoom into the picture. The caption below reads, "epic completion of this years band camp. I cant wait to play with you guys again ;)". In the frame there is of course Pete, slanging a red bass over his shoulder, looking as mischievous as always, a small blonde haired boy under Pete's arms flushing red and a familiar mop of curly hair pulled up in a bun behind both of them. I recognise of course Ray and Pete, definitely not the fedora kid, who if I have seen before would've surely recalled, and then I eventually observe, with further squinting, an unknown head resting on top of rays shoulders, resembling Pete's bright smile. The boy, with closer examination, is on Rays back reaching over his chest allowing a perfect view of the mystery boys tattooed arms. His eyes are closed with content appearing to be in abounding comfort while showing the camera a speck of what looks to be a scorpion tattoo on his neck. His copper-coloured fluffy hair almost conceals the small metallic rings on his button nose and small lips but with a face like his, nothing is overlooked.

"Jesus Gerard! You good now?" Mikey speaks after pulling his phone back from Gerard, Bloody hell dude, you almost made me think I had some competition before realising you were looking at the punk."

"Fuck" I whisper knowing how pointless it is to whisper considering Mikey's sitting practically on top of me (due to the wrestling). I swat my hair away from my face, hoping to look a bit more composed not for Mikey but for myself. Fuck. That little short ass punk boy is fucking gorgeous. It is like I can feel his warmth through the screen. His hair looked so sweaty yet soft. I want to run my hands through it. I can still see the delicate wrinkle lines in the corner of his sealed eyes and the sharpness of his jawline. I want to kiss him everywhere. I want to taste the beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks and feel the coldness of his lip ring on my-

Crap.

Just before my existential crisis of love and suffering begins to come down from its constant spot in my locked heart, my turd of a brother shouts in my ear.

"GERARD WAY CAN YOU PLEASE FUCKING HELP ME ON HOW TO INTRODUCE MYSELF TO THIS SEXY BASTARD!??!?"


	6. Lover Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey finally contacts Pete and Gee discovers that he lost an object of his
> 
> FYI feel free to comment because I love reading comments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS!! as always, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter. this story is going a bit slow right now but don't worry, it's going to gain some pace soon. Also, I originally planned this story to have only like 16 chapters but um...I have big plans for this story so expect a LOt more chapters. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7AcF2SR2qLQBemITO1HyPP?si=138a37bfef274e99 
> 
> this is the Spotify playlist for this fic if anyone is intrested

Mikey and I did in fact create a response I am quite proud to call my own. *wipes a tear from a proud fathers cheek*. Now whether Pete decides to respond is another matter entirely but for now, Mikey will have to continue sweating in his, of course, all black pyjamas. Oh, but of course there is in fact a dash of red from his beanie. Can't forget his signature beanie, how silly of me. 

Mik-ey_fuckin.way- Hi! You don't know me of course, but my name is Mikey! I know your friend Ray, we actually went to band camp together! How's your day been??  
xo MW 0(^_^)0

"You good now Mikey?" I asked, getting more and more impatient by the second. It took us almost 2 hours just to figure out what to say to this bastard. He better be worth it.

Mikey looks down at his phone that had been thrown to the ground in yet another wail of despair. Still sitting across from him I look more closely at my brother, taking in this new version of him. It is strange to say, but I don't like it when my brother shows emotions. Especially worry. Not even my parents fighting caused him to look this nervous. His already pale face has gone twice as ashen, making his eye bags practically absorb his features. We often get told that we look completely different from each other. How it's so odd to see such different faces from the same family. With Mikey's incredibly sharp jawline (seriously it could split a fucking coconut or something) and dead eyes, it's easy to mistake him for merely a friend rather than a brother, as I basically project an entirely different aura. Amidst my malleable face lies more emotion in my eyes than Mikey's whole body. Well...I do see Mikey reveal more emotion than most mortals get to experience, simply because of our closeness (and my pure God-like persona), but at this moment as he pulls a woven quilt over his head, I've never seen him this...human?

The rough planks of wood that make up the floor chill my feet as I walk to the nearest window in our shared room. It's still snowing of course. What did I expect? A sudden shiver runs down my spine. I reach for the scarf around my neck only to realise in a moment of dread that it's not there.

"Mikey? Where's my scarf?

All I hear is a mumble of what sounds to be the formation of a sentence. 

"I don't know Gee"

Instant stress tugs at me as I turn over every pillow, blanket and mound of clothes that can be found in our assigned room. 

"Mikey, "I say quietly looking towards the lump of scrunched up blanket that's hiding my brother, " Grandma made it for me." 

His head darts up, knocking his glasses off his nose. He swears.

"Shit gee. Maybe you left it outside. I'll go with-”

Out of nowhere (well really the sound comes from his phone) I fought the law by the clash starts playing, indicating brother dearest has a new message. It's rather comical that right when I need help to look for a treasured object, something that means so much to me, lust, or so called ‘teenage love', decides to pronounce itself as most important. Rather rude if I were, to be honest. 

I silently scoff as I notice the blonde boy switching his attention between his phone, which is still on the floor, and me, approximately 20 times. Mikey starts to open his mouth but I quickly turn away his excuse with a flap of my gloved hand.

“Don't stress Mikes.” I say, “ Go talk to lover boy” 

I step out and shut the door behind me before he can object.

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for reading! ill update weekly..or at least try to. I know it was utter trash but it'll get better soon...I hope hhahha.


End file.
